


I Nearly Lost You

by orphan_account



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst for days, Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Conflicted Clary, Drug Addiction Recovery, F/M, Guilty Clary, Guilty Isabelle, Hurt Alec, Hurt Clary, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Institute Attack, Irresponsible Isabelle, M/M, Malec Centric, Multi, Nightmares, Parabatai Bond, Protective Jace, Protective Magnus, Raphael wtf are you doing, S2E10, Season Two Episode 10, Survivors Guilt, Toxic Relationship, Worried Magnus, Yin Fen, fluff for days, hurt jace, worried Jace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alec Lightwood wasn't expecting such a stabbing rift between his sister and boyfriend. When the Institute is attacked, he selfishly sent her dozens of messages asking for help and if she was okay. But each one went ignored. And as Isabelle is continuously reliant upon Yin Fen, Alec snapped at Magnus. The man who had done nothing but be supportive of him.When no backup is there to assist, Alec is forced as prisoner of Valentine. Though given his close connection to Jace, he may become a heavy leverage against his friends and family.-/\-Or, the Institute is attacked but Isabelle never does check her phone. When there's no backup, Alec is left to fend for himself. And given how close of a relationship he has to Jace, Valentine fully intends on using him as leverage.-/\-This has some fandom mediablending, I follow the plot of the TV Show but character descriptions are different. For example, Alec has blue eyes and is shorter than Magnus. If you aren't for the book descriptions, go to this link for the same material but follows the physical appearances of the show.https://docs.google.com/document/d/1C086YqX29XcXnbC05eVQq2Dkf3hLzl8WFCKBfgrYGaMThank you for checking this out!





	1. Chapter One

 

     There was no doubt that Alec was one of the best fighters of the New York Institute. In fact, between him, Jace and Isabelle, they were a practically unstoppable team. But as Alec stood alongside Victor Aldertree, a man whose most notable skills were in diplomacy (to which Alec found were in fact pitiful), facing six fully armed and energized Circle members, he felt dread creep up his throat.

     They were outnumbered, lacking resources and energy after an already tiresome battle. But that didn't take the forefront of Alec's thoughts, no. Instead he was wondering where his sister was. Though their last meeting was filled with anger and tension, he couldn't believe she would so easily turn her back to him. Isabelle wasn't like that, she was the cunning and intelligent young woman who could do everything him and Jace did while still assuring she could walk down a runway at the same time. But she wasn't here. And they were outnumbered.

     It was a young woman, no older than 18 with platinum blonde hair and pink streaks who struck out first. Her hold was sloppy, a clear sign of poor and hasty training that she had no doubt been coerced into. But Alec didn't feel too much sympathy as he readied his duel seraph blades. The deadly weapon already lit with the blue-tinged angelic energy. He quite easily arced his sword down her sternum, the movements becoming easy and practiced as the others charged. Though suddenly it seemed there were far more than six Circle members.

     Fighting with heavy blades takes a great deal of energy, no doubt. Already Alec had been running on a mere two hours of sleep (much to Magnus's chagrin), was too close to use his bow and had activated his stamina and strength runes to the point they were dull and exhausted of their power. Which only furthered why the battle was so short. As the blue-eyed Shadowhunter continuously defended against the Circle members, he nearly missed when Aldertree was forced to his knees, a seraph blade held just below the diplomat's chin.

     "Alexander Lightwood, you can either drop your weapons now and surrender or we will slit this man's throat." Spoke a young man with a heavy lilt to his words, the accent signifying of Latin descent. His eyes were narrowed, a concentrated brown among an additional dozen pairs. Alec knew he didn't stand a chance, but that didn't mean he couldn't stall for time.

     Though not even two seconds later did a familiar and disgusting figure emerge on the rooftop.

     "No need, execute him and restrain Alexander."

     The words were cool, indifferent. Completely nonchalant as red spilled from Aldertree's neck that nearly resulted in a cry of outrage from Alec. But he was forced to the ground that same second. Not even the years with endless hours of training could have stopped this from happening, but that didn't stop the waves of regret pouring over him. Soon, not even the small blade in Alec's boot was held to him any longer. But instead thick rope coursed along, binding his wrists in front of him and his arms to his sides.

     "Jace's parabatai, as pleasant as it is to meet you I'm afraid I have a tight schedule. Now I suggest you cooperate or I will arrange for a most painful death of a certain warlock friend of yours, are we clear?" Magnus's title was said with such disgust by Valentine that saliva nearly flew to the ground at the word. Alec remained stoic however. His frame of six feet was rarely towered though Magnus has been a rare exception to that. He kept a cool gaze towards Valentine, appearing just a detached from emotions and using his height to maintain a nearly haughty air. Though that didn't last for long as a powerful fist connected with Alec's ribs, a crack punctuating it as if to scream that the bone had broke.

     "I do believe I just asked if you understand, it's only polite to reply." The words left to hang, sounding sadistic as they rang through the eldest Lightwood's ear.

     "I understand then, if that is what an appropriate answer is to a sociopath." Perhaps the insult wasn't wise of Alec to make, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Either his family and friends would come for him, or they wouldn't. But he was resigned to his fate. If there was anything valuable about having high expectations on your shoulders it was that you should expect the worst.

     As Alec was escorted quickly to Aldertree's office, he couldn't help but theorize what would be done to him. Would his death be recorded and sent to Isabelle, Jace? Or by the Angel forbid Magnus. His efforts to desensitize himself were cut short as his intense cerulean gaze came across Clary's vampire friend. Simon, was it? The boy's usually continuous chatter had halted, replaced by harsh groans from the somewhat deep cut along his neck. To which Alec couldn't help but feel sympathy for. At one point, Simon was a mundane only interested in gaining his best friend's affection and assuring she was okay. He had now become a vampire, lost nearly all support from them and was currently suffering torture as leverage against Clary. But then the horror dawned upon Alec as to what his fate would most likely be.

     His wrists, slender and usually pale aside from his angelic rune, were chained and rubbed raw. Then being abruptly pulled to a small hook on the ceiling, something that if Alec had been able to see were made up of magic. The ceiling was however high enough that he did not see, and his feet were around a meter from touching the ground, leaving his shoulders to stretch uncomfortably and his body vulnerable to whatever Valentine wished to do with him.

     "Now, Alexander. We both know you are not here to share tea with me. But I want your stay to not be entirely miserable simply because your parabatai's sister is selfish. So say hello to the Downworlder and Clary." Valentine's words were jarring, leaving Alec to narrow his blue eyes towards the cell phone screen that did indeed show his boyfriend and Clary. The concern and grief that appeared through Magnus's eyes made Alec want to cry out to him. To hug him, kiss him, soothe and comfort him. But that was impossible at the moment, painfully impossible.

     "No, no." His breaths were shaky and uncontrolled to which Alec chided himself. He was always imperfect, but he was excellent at hiding the emotions that whirled like a vacuum and void colliding. "You can't let Jace or Clary touch the Soul Sword. I will be fine but the Downworld needs to-" While the eldest Lightwood expected the gesture, he felt as though his jaw may have unhinged from the force that a gag was tied behind his head. He could attempt to speak again, to hear Magnus promise to prevent Clary or Jace from touching the Soul Sword, but his words would be muffled. And if Alec was correct in his assumptions of what was to come then he would certainly need his energy.

     A hiss echoed against Alec's ears, like a fire suddenly being doused, though with no evidence aside from grey smoke curling around. And then came the snap of a whip, striking against his back clad in nothing more than a worn and loose-fitting t-shirt. His blue-eyes widened in pain, knowing the fabric ripped and knowing a long cut had formed and knowing there was more to come. But Alec promised himself to not make a sound, to not flinch, to not react. But hearing Magnus cry out his name in concern sent a dagger through his heart.

    "Clary, as you know, my patience is running thin. While you may not care about your vampire, your brother would be devastated to know that you watched his parabatai be tortured. And yet, did nothing about it." Another three times, the whip cracked loud and clear against Alec's back. He wondered briefly if electricity or barbs decorated it, considering how painful the experience was. Once or twice Izzy had struck him with her whip while training, them being painful but healed easily with an iratze. Except this was so much worse and a sinking sense of defeat settled in. Perhaps Isabelle had checked her phone now and would be on her way to gather help. Even then Alec didn't know if he wanted it, she would be entering a massacre for his life. A life that couldn't even help Madzie or Aldertree or Jace, no, it would be better if this suffering was his alone to bear.

     It was sort of a dull realization that the video call ended. Alec wanted to exhale that Magnus would no longer have to see this, but the gag prevented him from having a full range of inhaling and exhaling. Though that may also be the painful pounding of his ribs.

     The first grimace arose when Valentine had traded out the whip for a knife. A knife coated in the venom of some demon that the sadist had announced but had still escaped Alec's attention. All he noted was that the older Shadowhunter had manipulated it to see if it would no longer be lethal, but still unbearably painful.

     Shallow cuts decorated all across Alec's body like the sporadic areas of melted snow as spring emerges. Except instead of patchy, dead grass it was a vibrant red that contrasted in some sort of strangely alluring way against his pale skin. Perhaps this was the beginning of pain-induced psychosis, the thought brought mirth to Alec's tightly pressed lips. He could handle a few more cuts, a few more lashings, a few more minutes or hours of this long, torturous process. But the young Shadowhunter didn't dare hope, because Alec couldn't live with himself if anyone died trying to save him.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap:
> 
>  
> 
> Poor Alec has recently been captured by Valentine. While not unexpected considering the aid of Circle members and an emotionally manipulated warlock, seeing a colleague (granted a very disliked one) being killed is troubling. Though it seems that Alec has bigger things to worry about as he is being used as leverage to get Clary to the Institute, but what Clary sees, Magnus does too.
> 
>  
> 
> This Time:
> 
>  
> 
> After seeing his boyfriend being tortured, Magnus obviously doesn't think he can sit around and do nothing. As Alec continues to be abused to the enjoyment of Valentine, he develops a plan with Clary to save Alec and the Downworld.
> 
> AN:
> 
> Please leave comments and feedback! I understand it can be tiring, but I absolutely adore having constructive criticism and knowing what you guys like to read. Also, I am taking Shadowhunter (+TMI, Bane Chronicles, Infernal Devices, Artifices etc) prompts. Thank you!

     No, no, no. This couldn't be happening, not to his dear Nephilim. Not to the man who he had been arguing with over petty issues a mere day ago. Not when the last thing he had heard from him was the stupid, selfless attitude that both drove Magnus insane but also made him fall in love all over again. This couldn't be happening to Alexander.

     Long ago the camera had tilted from Simon to Alec. The former's whose neck did not appear to be getting any better. But quite honestly, Magnus didn't know if he cared too much. The entire premise of his concern for the vampire was because of Raphael. And after the drug filled mind of his friend left the Latino to irresponsible actions, Magnus was disappointed in his companion.

     But Alexander, his sweet Alexander. His eyes looked dull, the usual bright cerulean appearing to have covered in smoke, fog and a shield that was no doubt to protect himself from the pain to come. Pain that Magnus wanted to do everything possible to shield his Nephilim from.

     "Magnus!" Clary's sudden shout shook the warlock from his haze of worrying about Alec. But his eyes snapped up towards the redhead, expectant, determined and intimidating.

     "We need a plan, okay? I know you aren't okay about what's happening with Alec and I sure as hell cannot stay here while Jace has the opportunity to fulfill his martyr-complex."

     Her words were surprisingly levelheaded, resulting in a resigned nod from her friend. But with hardly a moment’s pause, Magnus was bustling about the loft. Random vials being thrown into random bags, though they had something's in common. They were all meant to distract and defend, they all were shatterproof and they would all hopefully help the Downworld.

 

     The Angel knew that those against Valentine would need all the help they could get.

 

-/\\-

 

     It was perhaps twenty minutes later when both Magnus and Clary stumbled out of the portal. No more than 300 feet from the Institute, the unconventional pair assumed it to be a safe distance. Though unfortunately, within thirty seconds they found themselves surrounded by vampires. Leading them, being Raphael.

     "Raphael," his tone was low, a warning with a far heavier impact than Clary's yelp of surprise. The redhead and warlock were held by the herculean strength of the undead, slightly pulled behind their backs. But Magnus found it to be an overall juvenile attempt at disarming him.  
  
     "Magnus, I know you don't like it but having Clary around is a liability. She can destroy the Downworld if Valentine gets to her. And frankly, that's not a risk any of us can take. You're too close to this Magnus." Raphael was trying to be diplomatic, he knew. Trying to be reasonable in justifying the murder of innocent Biscuit. But the warlock wasn't having it. Centuries of seniority did usually prove useful, of course.

     A small chant was uttered past Magnus's gloss coated lips. He provided a counter spell protecting only Clary, then freezing in place each vampire that surrounded him. His eyes were narrowed, mildly infuriated at the time wasted by simply idling about with his simple-minded allies. Notably a group led by a current drug addict of its own variety.

     "Lucian is on his way, he will meet you here shortly. You will remain beside him at all times." The words were crisp, a demanding tone that made it clear that this wasn't a request. This was life or death for potentially the entire Downworld. And almost more importantly to Magnus, life or death for Alexander.

     As promised, Lucian arrived. The Alpha nodded to the High Warlock as a sign of respect, but little more address could be made as the latter entered a portal to directly enter the Institute.

     The first thing Magnus saw in the random corridor he portalled to, was lines and lines of bodies. The first being a man, uniform indicating him to be a technical personnel, his face contorted in agony. All along the floor were Shadowhunters who had their lives taken away, by what, the he had get to find out.

     It was blatantly obvious that simply striding into Aldertree's office would be a death sentence. No doubt would he be overpowered and overwhelmed at seeing his injured Nephilim. But also, Magnus needed to remind himself that he was leader of the Brooklyn warlocks. And that involved ensuring Valentine could not activate the Soul Sword.

     As he continued to walk, Magnus became remarkably cognizant to the sound of a dull thud. A soft kick against a soft material and to what it belonged to, he had no idea. Intent on investigating, the sight of a young girl with a lovely teal scarf around her neck was no doubt surprising. But as she became aware of Magnus's presence, the mocha-skinned girl pulled off the fabric, revealing gills on either side of her neck. Gills that began to rid the room of air.

     "You don't need to be afraid, I'm a warlock too," Magnus prefaced, coming to realize that this was Valentine's accomplice. A young warlock who had been captured and manipulated. If at all possible, this made the older of the two hate him even more.

     "I want to see my Nana, they said I would see my Nana." Her words were beginning to slur as tears of desperation and melancholy welled in her eyes. Magnus was unsure how to proceed, as much as he wanted to bring the warlock into a hug where she could be explained to and rid of her fears, his was boyfriend being tortured and the Downworld was endangered.

     "They lied, these people have been using you for your magic. To take advantage of you." He spoke softly, realizing the fragility of the situation. Betrayal was hard to process and made people volatile. Which was not something Magnus believed he could handle at the moment. Though as he was greeted with silence and an understanding nod, he assumed Madzie was reaching those conclusions on her own.

     "Will you help me get to someone? He has dark hair and blue eyes, Valentine took him today. His name is Alexander." Another moment passed, filled with charged silence before once again the young warlock nodded. Grabbing Magnus's hand, she led him around the winding halls with dark oak doors and brass handles until the familiar sight of Aldertree's office greeted him.

     As the door swung open with a loud creak, Magnus knew all hell was about to break loose.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap:
> 
> Magnus was horrified to see Alec at Valentine's mercy. No longer wanting to stand idle, him and Clary venture to the Institute (or in the redhead's case as very close by). Though as Magnus searches for allies, he comes across the young warlock Madzie. To whom he asks for assistance.
> 
> This Time:
> 
> Jace has his own mission at the Institute. He is painfully aware that Alec is in a great deal of pain, but helping him will be a lot more difficult than expected.
> 
> AN:
> 
> Thank you guys for all of the feedback and support. It is greatly appreciated :)

     Jace was beginning to find it difficult to walk. A phantom pain coursed all around his body that the blond knew to be belonging to Alec. But most likely in a way far more vivid. The thought left his jaw locking, he had no idea where Alec was but the ghost of his injuries was enough to make the Shadowhunter stumble. Even tracing a rune to pose as Clary was difficult.

     A deep sigh came across his parted lips. Jace had to remain confident that Clary was okay. That she was safe within the walls of Magnus's loft where hopefully Izzy and Alec would be soon. Though unfortunately Jace doubted he would join them. No, he couldn't if he wanted to destroy the Soul Sword. And that's what he was hoping to do, much to the future chagrin of everyone who held Jace close to their hearts. Hopefully his sacrifice would be worth it, however.

     It didn't take any longer than nine seconds for Jace to be apprehended. Two Circle members gripping his arms tightly, though if he were his usual self he could have easily escape such a hold. But no, he was Clary Fairchild and needed to save Simon.

     "Tell Valentine I'm here!" The words were of no effect, but stated with a bold confidence he knew the true redhead possessed. He pretended to thrash weakly as he was dragged towards Aldertree'a office. And in Jace's periphery he saw a mocha skinned girl with a teal scarf, something shocking to the Shadowhunter.

     "Ah, Clarissa," Valentine spoke just as the door opened. The younger Shadowhunter knew it was only pleasantry, except something made Jace stumble back.

  
     Jace knew that Simon was severely injured, the former mundane would be needing blood soon. Which had been the original plan for the Shadowhunter. But this was like playing doubles against someone with full straits, a game impossible to win.

     Before him was Clary, arms chained above her head, a gag of worn cloth against her lips and so, so many wounds. Given her small and petite frame, it was a miracle she hadn't bled out yet. Jace wanted to cry, to scream, to inflict so much pain on Valentine that he begged and begged for mercy. A mercy that only Clary should be allowed to give. Instead, he looked on at his pained redhead.

     "Tell me, daughter, who do you see?" His tone was shockingly calm, peering up to where Clary was chained. Jace didn't know what to do. How could Valentine continue to pretend that he was Clary when it was clear she was instead being tortured by him.

     "No, you sick bastard!" Jace hissed, allowing his glamour to fall. Valentine stood still for a moment in surprise, leaving the Shadowhunter free to grab his seraph blade and stele. He wanted to rush to find Clary's iratze, fingers scrambling to pull up he fabric on her forearms. Except as he drew it, Clary trembled, a moan of pain seeping past the gag.

     "Clary, Clary, it's going to be okay. Just focus on my voice." He tried to coax, except then a stabbing pain came through his parabatai rune. A pain that he knew was solely emotional but left Jace winded nonetheless.

     "So, it's Clary then, that you treasure the most?" Sounded Valentine, clear intrigue and curiosity seeping through. And then in a blur of pale skin and pink magic it was no longer the amateur Shadowhunter who was chained, it was his parabatai. The situation was the same, and then it made sense why the iratze didn't work. Alec's rune was in a different spot than Clary's, his blie eyes were dull, skin an ashy grey and limbs listless. Though worst of all, Jace could feel how tired his parabatai was. He was on the edge of a cliff, the drop off into a void where no one knew what would happen. And the blond realized how astonishingly close Alec was to dropping off of it.

     His thoughts continued the thrum, leaving Jace frozen in place for several more seconds. Several more seconds filled with charged silence, but Valentine was moving. A syringe filled with an unknown substance, but holding the color of tar black.

     And then the door swung open.

     Magnus peered into the room, blue energy sparking along his fingertips at the sight of Alec. Jace wanted to sigh in relief, if the warlock was here he could heal his parabatai. And he would have had the needle of the syringe not been slid into the sensitive skin of the eldest Lightwood's wrist. He didn't know what was happening until the chamber was entirely emptied, leaving the tar black substance to begin its flow in Alec's circulatory system.

     Despite the gag, everyone in the room could clearly hear the scream that came as result from whatever substance that now ran in Alec's veins. And Jace felt as the dark-haired Shadowhunter was falling off the cliff and into the void. He thrashed and whimpered for six painfully long seconds before falling unconscious, silent and limp. His state mirrored that of the vampire who had thus far escaped Jace's attention. Both pale and in a sleepy state, and to the distress of Jace, both severely injured.

    "Alexander," Magnus breathed, shocking Jace out of his horror. Only then did he realize how heart wrenching this would be for the warlock, his cat eyes revealed with the blue energy that crackled in the air.

     Valentine was dashing out of the room. He knew he couldn't win against Jace and Magnus. The terrain wasn't to his advantage, his weapons mainly inaccessible and no Circle members currently at his disposal.

     "Take care of Alec and Simon, I'll get Valentine." Jace yelled, feet already pounding against the linoleum floors of the Institute. He had to trust that his family would be okay, especially Clary and even Simon. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap:  
> Jace successfully entered the Institute with a glamour as Clary. Though when taken to see Valentine, a spell placed on Alec confused him into thinking it was truly Clary being tortured. Which caused him to take off his glamour instead of hopes to save her, then realizing it as his parabatai. Given his shock at the realization, it allowed Valentine to inject the Lightwood with demon venom before running off at Magnus’s entrance.
> 
> This Time:  
> It seems that Clary isn't too different from Jace. She can no longer sit idle when she knows Simon and Alec are injured, the Downworld is endangered and that Jace’s martyr-complex may come to shine. Though it seems that her antics may have more consequences than anticipated when she neglects a task.
> 
> AN:  
> Please remember to leave feedback! I greatly appreciate your comments, questions, criticism and requests. Or simply leaving a kudos to let me know that you like it so far. I hope you enjoy.

     Clary was undeniably restless as she paced outside of the Institute. Her black books were quiet against the sodden grass, the dull thuds of footsteps occasionally stopping to drum her fingers against Luke’s vehicle. He had been arguing with fellow Downworlders, werewolves and vampires alike. Yet no one dared to suggest harming her again so far, something Clary didn't know if she should take comfort in.

  
     “Hey, you're going to scratch the paint if you keep this up.” The Alpha said with a lighthearted air, hoping to relieve some of the worries the redhead had. The effort was appreciated, but futile. Her worries continued to swarm until a tension headache was created, yet Clary still looked up towards Luke with a smile. The gesture that he returned before turning back around to a Downworlder.

     This was pointless, her waiting just outside and useless to those who needed her. These were her friends, her family who had supported her in some way or another. Clary shouldn't be standing idle as they risked their lives. Her footsteps quieted, something that her friend hadn't noticed. But when they started again, running to the door of the Institute where Downworlders had cleared, Luke did happen to look up.

  
     “Clary!” He shouted but the words fell on deaf ears, she was lost in her own sense of having to help. The young woman felt she had grown out of the interim of always needing to be protected, still learning how to fight. She could fend for herself, even Alec commented on her improvement. And as her stele traced over a stealth, strength and speed rune, she was confident she would hold up against any Circle member who intercepted her run to Aldertree’s office.

  
     Clary made good time, vague memories of being forced to run around the high-school track came to mind. Though she didn't enjoy the activity, it was strange how useful it was now coming to be. Her breath stilled suddenly while approaching the dark oak door. The young woman didn't hear much, no cries of pain or harsh orders, but instead a sort of low murmuring. Like a chant that the redhead couldn't imagine belonging to her warlock friend.

  
     As the door began to open, an audible creak emitting from its worn hinges, blue energy sparked against it, nearly striking her in the chest. A shocked yelp escaped her lips, allowing golden cat eyes to meet her gaze. Initially it was surprise then anger and then desperation that was conveyed in the glance. Magnus looked so emotionally vulnerable, and as Clary once again entered the room, she was mortified at the sight before her.

  
     Alec lay unconscious, dozens of shallow cuts along his arms and by the small pool of crimson that he laid in, the whipping didn't end when the video did. His lips were blue and he shivered uncontrollably behind closed eyelids that veiled the usual blue color. Around him was a shield of blue energy that fought against the venom in Alec’s blood, doing more to relieve the pain than remove the venom at the moment. Another cord of energy had supplied Simon with enough blood to allow him to heal and regain consciousness. Which Clary was surprised enough to realize the blood belonged to Alec. The usually chatty vampire knew to remain silent as Magnus fretted over his boyfriend, not even complaining that he was still restrained.

  
     “Biscuit, what are you doing here?” The warlock asked, voice deadly calm as he stared at his boyfriend. Clary didn't know what to say initially, shock still enveloping her and continuing to do so for a moment longer.

  
     “I needed to help, Magnus I have to do something.” It was a sort of plea that came out, something that the cat-eyes regarded with sympathy and fury. Magnus knew the pain of being helpless as loved ones were injured, when they died and he could do nothing about it. But he was still angry, she had directly defied him after all. Him, the High Warlock of Brooklyn who currently couldn't even heal his boyfriend, only sustain him.

  
     “Fine.” The word was curt as Magnus stood, not allowing the energy to falter around Alec but snapping the restraints on Simon’s wrists and ankles.

  
     Clary held her breath, wondering what he would ask her to do and praying that it wouldn't involve going back to Luke who's anger was no doubt mirrored.

  
     “You will stay here and keep an eye on Alec, he needs to stay elevated. Otherwise I'm worried that he’ll choke on his own blood. I need to find Madzie, and your vampire friend should back up Jace. He will be needing assistance.” Magnus looked resigned, a longing gaze in his cat eyes that soon was veiled with a glamour. The warlock took a deep breath, looking up towards Clary for a nod of understanding. Which she gave promptly, already having kneeled next to the Lightwood.

  
     There wasn't much prelude before Magnus left. Leaving a newly energized vampire, an amateur Shadowhunter and another skilled one who was gravely injured. But Clary was already arranging the latter in a chair. Her own petite nature made it difficult to put Alec on a chair, yet Simon helped her perform the task.

  
     “You aren't going to stay, are you?” Simon asked quietly. Her best friend of more than ten years knew Clary better than anyone. And he knew that she desperately needed to assure Jace was okay, safe from Valentine. But that didn't stop the fraction of guilt as she looked at Alec. He would be alright, if her only job was to keep him elevated then the chair could accomplish such a task. In addition, the redhead knew Alec would support her decision. The blue-eyed Shadowhunter was close to his parabatai, more than Simon and Clary even. And if Clary was the balancing weight in a fight to support Jace, he would be fine.

     “You know I can't, Simon.” She reached out, holding his hand and offering a small squeeze of assurance. Alec didn't make a sound, didn't move aside from shallow breaths. Yet Clary endearingly rubbed his shoulder, as though he were awake and in need of comfort.  
 

     “Fine, but I'm coming with you. Or otherwise you're being dragged to Luke or Magnus.” Simon smiled at her, but the words were the truth no doubt. And Clary couldn't help but shake her head, a chuckle escaping her lips despite the tense situation. Though she did notice that her friend was still wounded, his pallor present yet she was concerned that Magnus couldn't provide enough blood for the vampire.

  
     "You aren't fully healed, Simon.” She didn't enjoy the thought of delaying her time to run to Jace. But she pulled up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing the vulnerable skin of her forearm.

  
      “Drink-” Clary stated firmly, and though Simon looked like he desperately wanted to resist, his eyes widened in bloodlust. It was like providing water to someone who hadn't drank in days. And this was clearly a necessity to Simon's health. The pain wasn't as bad as she expected, in fact, she felt a wave of pleasure rolling over her. It was scary almost, but Simon managed to pull away before she passed out or begged for more of the experience.

  
      “Feeling better?” She asked, voice wavering at her sudden loss of the feeling. But Jace was in danger and she needed to keep a cool head.

  
      "Yes, though I still fully intend on coming with you.” Simon breathed, somewhat exhilarated by the experience himself. He licked the crimson from his fangs, pupils steadily returning to their regular size.

  
      "Of course, but we need to get to the main platform.”

  
-/\\-

  
     Clary no longer could float about the good time she made to Aldertree’s office. Though racing against a vampire entailed an inevitable loss, of course. But of course, Circle members guarded the perimeter of where the Soul Sword sat on the main floor. Jace stood where Circle members refused to intervene, his father standing across from him. Even from here the redhead inferred Valentine only taunted Jace, which appeared to be working as the blond clenched his fingers tightly around the seraph blade.

    No longer did the two circle each other as the younger Shadowhunter lunged out.

     The two were of course remarkably skilled, a strange sort of rhythm emerging from the slashing and slicing. Clary watched in a sort of fascination, steadily approaching the current spar. It seemed Jace was winning, a cut on Valentine’s cheek, then his thigh and then his wrist. She still had a hard time imagining him as her brother, but she wondered if Alec and Izzy felt the same sort of pride and admiration as she did now. Because Jace was winning, and the blond she still held feelings for was managing to fend against Valentine.  
     

     Jace collapsed to the ground in a sudden gasp, a cry of pain. Clary had no idea if an injury had been inflicted on him. His hand came to clutch his parabatai rune, lips pulled back in a grimace.  
 

     “Alec, no, no, no…” He whispered, over and over again, much to the mirth of Valentine and horror of Clary. She had only been gone for ten minutes, maybe. But suddenly, a blade was arcing down towards Jace.

     Her breath caught in her throat, if Jace was suffering from a severed parabatai bond, she doubted he would be able to dodge the quick movement. And so, without hesitation, Clary jumped to shield him from the blow.

     It wasn't an unexpected pain the hit her. Crimson bloomed against her stomach and the blood came away as she pressed her hand to the wound. Valentine merely smiled, until sickening realization set out that the action must have been planned. But why would he want to hurt her? Didn't he need her to activate the Soul Sword?

  
     Jace stood suddenly with a pained groan, eyes glancing to just behind Clary. She knew Simon must be there, but what was the blond Shadowhunter doing?

  
    An arm braced around her back, holding Clary still before horror set in once more. The slender hands that she knew to skillfully play the piano now were inches away from the Soul Sword's hilt. Time seemed to slow suddenly, dozens of Downworlders flooded into the Institute, battling the Circle members with remarkable skill, a surprised cry for Jace to stop, a small smirk from Valentine and the assuring grip of Simon just behind her.

     Tears rolled down her cheeks as a flash of bright light flooded the room. Clary expected Jace to be gone, his sacrifice freeing the Downworlders of danger. Yet Jace still stood, shock marring his features at the sight before him. The comfortable weight of Simon’s presence hadn't left.

     Except the warriors who had come to their aid with demon blood in their veins, were now dead.

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap:  
> Oh dear, poor Alec simply hasn't been getting a break. When Clary runs into the Institute (much to the chagrin of everyone), she came across Magnus, Alec and Simon in Aldertree’s office. Having to strain himself to heal both the vampire and Shadowhunter, Magnus is at his wits end, especially with the additional need to protect Clary and find Madzie. Though as the High Warlock goes to find the younger of his species, he tasks Clary to assure Alec stays elevated. Yet in her hopes to help Jace, she leaves Alec. And when she does arrive, the blond if afflicted with pain from his parabatai rune. Keeping a martyr-complex herself, Clary saves him from a stab from Valentine only to have Jace attempt to destroy the Soul Sword. Something that turns out with a very opposite reaction.  
> This Time:  
> Isabelle has been subjected to the weakness of addiction. Though Raphael went out, she can't help the sinking feeling that something is wrong. The spat with her brother is long since forgotten. But her vampire beau returns insisting for the two of them to leave, arising suspicions from the female Lightwood.  
> AN:  
> Wooo, I figured Isabelle deserves some love along with the break from the action. It's going to be a fun time. Please remember to comment your thoughts about the chapters, it's excellent for me to know what you guys like reading or don't. And if there are any questions, hopefully I can clear that up too.

     Isabelle felt positively miserable laying on Raphael’s couch. He had left what seemed like an eternity ago, and the deprivation of Yin Fen was taking its toll on her. Her eyes appeared perpetually glazed over, something to dull the agony of not having her supply. She heard her phone buzz a few more times, but the thought of it simply escaped her attention. It was probably just Alec. Alec who always thought he could control her, that he was able to shield her from everything and who wanted to separate her from Raphael.

  
     She huffed in annoyance, why couldn't he just leave her alone? For once the brown-eyed Lightwood found herself as happy. Isabelle trusted Raphael, and he had told her some of the most private things in his life. How could she pull away from that? From such a perfect thing that they had. Except Alec wanted to ruin it, wanted to keep her under the shell of his protection. But she didn't want that, she wanted Raphael. Though that didn't dissuade the feeling that something was wrong.

  
     The door suddenly swung open, revealing Raphael who appeared rather disheveled. The eternity of longing for him had now ended, instead replacing her with excitement. Already she had bared her wrist, vulnerable for him to feed on. But concern was flooding her expression, she was definitely conscious that something wasn't right.

  
     "We need to leave, Isabelle. Valentine has the Soul Sword and has what he needs to activate it.” He explained, racing around the apartment without using his vampire speed. Isabelle remained still, however. This was a strange turn of events. Was that why her phone had been going off? Or was Alec still being his demanding self? Oh god, what if any one of her friends was in the Institute. What if they were dead? Perhaps it was the Yin Fen deprivation that made her hypothesize to the point of growing lightheaded.

  
     “What? No! We have to help,” Isabelle protested, already preparing her whip and stumbling to the door. She may not be apt enough without the drug, but that didn't deny that she wanted to help with every fiber of her being. The Lightwood’s only daughter had enough compassion for the world and it wouldn't be deflating because of her addiction. Though a cord of strength in the form of Raphael’s arm wrapped around her waist.

  
    “Isabelle, are you truly going to run out there? We can't do anything about it, and what about us?” His words were soft, pleading yet with an underlying aggression. Her breaths were coming out as pants, how desperately she craved the drug. But Isabelle was aware how reliant she was on Raphael for it. And how easily she would be coerced into going with him. As wonderful as that suggestion sounded, Isabelle couldn't bear with the idea of abandoning her family and friends. She moved to pull up her sleeve.

  
     The searing pleasure of Yin Fen coursed through her before the action could be fully completed. Her knees were weak, buckling as she fell against Raphael. Isabelle didn't know if she wanted this or not. The leverage he had over her was suddenly scary, the realization coming in like a cold wave against her. And the feeling sent dread that ricocheted through her whole body. He didn't love her, and she didn't love him, she craved the drug except that was now being used against her. Once the waves of euphoria passed, Isabelle mustered every ounce of strength to shove off Raphael. Something she was successful in doing despite his Herculean strength.

  
     “Raphael, I can't be here anymore, with you. Because if you loved me, you wouldn't be running from this. And you wouldn't be using your ability to feed as something to hold over me.” The words slurred, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth at its attempt to communicate. Isabelle knew they were audible, and knew that the weight of realization had a dizzying effect on Raphael.

     A moment of tense silence passed between them. Though Raphael opened his mouth, not a word came from it. Instead, his eyes narrowed into a wall of steel. He was in just a fragile position as her, the two of them glass cannons in this war. Except it was the vampire who had shot first, and the shrapnel from Isabelle had hit him.

  
     It was another moment before he turned around and exited the apartment. Suddenly a wave of nausea washed over Isabelle. She felt weak, so, so weak. And now she would have to sweat this out. Suddenly the second eldest Lightwood desperately wanted to see her family, to tell them how much she loved them and come clean about all of this. But she would probably need her phone to even get close enough to that.

     Almost like a blessing of fate, her phone buzzed. And to Isabelle’s surprise, Raphael had placed it on the topmost shelf. Even her slender frame of 5’9” couldn't reach it without her heels. She released a breath, straining to grab the small device. Even more so to stop her fingers from trembling, the usual tone that was so lightly tanned now had an unusual pallor about it. Something she had acquired with her first usage of Yin Fen.

     Her eyes raked over the messages, horror filling her warm, brown gaze at the dozens that had been sent to her. Most of them were from Alec, first informing her of the situation, then requesting assistance and finally asking of her safety. Isabelle knew things must be dire if he was asked her to come to a dangerous situation. Her brother knew she was capable, but the instinct of an elder sibling was to protect in the same way of a parent. Which had dissuaded Alec from inviting her to risqué missions in place of doing autopsies of equal or higher importance.

     The most recent message however was from Magnus, something unusual for her warlock friend who preferred calling in most cases. It was simple, curt, no doubt typed quickly so he could direct his attention to more important circumstances.

      “Alec is dying,” that was it, that was all Magnus had bothered to say. No word of if he was being cared for, still at the Institute or in the comforting walls of Magnus’s loft. Isabelle knew she couldn't be angry at him though, she had abandoned her brother. Abandoned him in place for a drug relationship that she now needed to figure out how to rid herself of. Guilt threatened to choke her, taking out all energy in the muscles of her legs that had kept her standing. Instead allowing herself to buckle to the ground. 

     She tried to call Magnus, when it was sent to the answering machine after a minus, she tried four more times. But Isabelle knew that if Alec was dying, Magnus would be raising hell to save him. And when raising hell it may be difficult to send a text message or entertain a call.

     Trying to gather herself, Isabelle grabbed her phone and a bottle of water. She could attempt to trace a rune or two to assure her from passing out yet she couldn't find the energy to take her stele out of her heeled boots. Taking a deep breath, the Shadowhunter began the jog towards Magnus’s loft. The only location she figured she could be of much assistance, if of course Alec and Magnus were there at all. But she had to hope.


End file.
